Draco Darling's MerryGoRound
by Devilita
Summary: Draco is scared of those creatures that live in the dark... No one else sees them besides him. Nonslash, I think. Complete
1. Default Chapter

Author: Devilita  
  
Betareader: None  
  
Rating: hmm... pg13?  
  
Genre: horror/suspense  
  
Summary: Draco is scared of those creatures that live in the dark... No one else sees them besides him.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Nu uh, but the story is MINE!  
  
A/N: This story was writen under circumstances very similar to this story's. I was at home, all alone, next to my desk and lightning broke my computer... The weather was amazing, I've never seen a thunder storm like that one o.o That's where I got the inspiration to this story. Ah, and feedback would be appreciated. ((And note that my native language is not English, don't bite me. There may be some probs with articles and punctuation))

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_**Draco Darling's Merry-Go-Round**_

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"Mama! Where are you?" little boy shouted into the darkness. His voice shaking with fear disappeared into the shadows, and the chilling echo of it continued its journey through the deserted passageway into other parts of the castle.  
  
The boy was running for his dear life. Cold droplets of sweat glistered on his skin, under the dim glow of the fluttering torches.  
  
Running away.  
  
To hide.  
  
To find Mama.  
  
His breathing came out as hitching; the boy had run all the way from his northern wing's room without stopping once. His blonde strands of hair had fallen onto his face, horrified, grey eyes flashed in fright. The boy was able to feel how something crept up his spine to the nape of his neck.  
  
Must find Mama!  
  
Rushed, stumbling steps on the red carpet that led along the corridor broke the absolute silence of the mansion. The boy's light blue satin pyjamas emphasized the paleness of the little boy. The light figure flew pass the leisurely ticking grandfather clocks and the metal suits of armour that stood along the walls. It seemed like it had no end at all; after every turn, behind every corner there was another corridor or another room full of doors. The paintings that hung on the walls followed the boy with their gaze.  
  
He clenched his fists and increased his speed.   
  
A lightning painted the whole sky with its white brightness as it flashed outside the windowpanes. Everything that could be seen out of the window was immediately illuminated by the white luminosity of horror. Only the deep unknown shadows split the heavenly pale, few seconds long play of light where the beams did not quite reach. The tops of the trees in the near-by woods, and the trees that exposed their stems to the clearing were bathing in the light, but the empty darkness was still there, lurking in the depths of the woods.  
  
After that almost non-existent second the ground under the boy's feet began shuddering and the raging thunder surged through the nocturnal country-side.  
  
A scream of terror. "Mamaaa! Papaaa!"  
  
Stumbling strides went on and on without slowing down. There was a stinging pain behind his ribcage in his lungs, squeezing the breath out of him, and it felt like someone had placed a hand in front of his mouth, suffocating the little boy.  
  
Another flash, soon following an immediate explosion high in the sky, shrouded in storm-grey clouds.  
  
The echo was everywhere.  
  
The sound came from his right.  
  
It echoed from his left.  
  
It could be heard in front of him.   
  
And it approached him from behind.  
  
"Help me, somebody!"  
  
If came from under his feet, it roared above him.   
  
The ticking of the clocks companied the thunder. It felt like the din raged right next to his ear, coming from inside of him.  
  
There was no place to hide, the warm lap was far away.  
  
No one comforted him, no one hugged him and protected him. No one smoothed his hair and whispered: "Draco darling, everything's alright. Don't be afraid."  
  
And if he turned his gaze to those corners, where the corridor's lights did not reach, he would see them again.  
  
Them.  
  
The mere thought made the blood running through his veins to stop and change its course. The icy current of fear made his mind to shriek and his skin to get goose bumps. And not only because of the cold, but panic.  
  
He wanted to close his eyes, not to see them.   
  
They chased him, skulked him, hunted him.  
  
And they only came out during thunderstorms.  
  
He could not breathe, he could not hold back the desperate tears that blurred his eye-sight, his light grey eyes had gone almost white. Traces of tears ran across his ghostly white child's features.  
  
Hard droplet lashed against the windows and one could hear the water pouring down as small waterfalls from the roof.  
  
He felt their presence, oh yes he did! He could almost feel their breath on his skin, on his neck. The fiery, hungry sighs and almost completely soundless steps of running met his very own footsteps. Oh dear God, they were after him and following him!  
  
The blonde boy couldn't make a sound come from his mouth; the hopeless sobs, uncontrollable cry took all the air from his lungs. The pain that throbbed in his head at the same time as his heart beat only increased the nauseous feeling inside of him, and his swollen, red-shot eyes weren't able to see through the foggy veil of acid-like tears. He furiously tried to sweep off the water in his eyes and cheeks, only managing to irritate the tender skin that surrounded his eyes, and the salty tears of the child stained the shaking back of his hand.  
  
An enormous blaze flooded through the massive scenery window within a second, making every single nook of the corridor turn shockingly white with its unearthly slash.  
  
Because it was a slash, indeed. Every time the light reached the corner of his eye, a cold knife slit his throat open and slashed his heart out of his chest with a force alike to electricity. How easy and effective way to frighten a little boy without leaving any visible injuries…  
  
The light revived everything that was dead silent around him to become alive right in front of his face. Without daring to glance another time into the darkness the boy could almost swear that that armour over there in his right, the one which he had passed as he had run away from the unknown, had moved slightly during the flash. For a fraction of a second a pair of eyes had stared at him from inside the iron helmet.   
  
Even though his eyes couldn't see it - thank heaven for that - the images that flashed through his mind were sharp and repeated themselves over and over again. During the short dark period that was followed by each picture, they came closer and closer, little by little, approached him and each time he could see them more clearly, more closely.  
  
Its yellow, razor-sharp teeth.  
  
Pure white, blood-shot eyes with a coal black pupil staring back intensely like a deserted island in the middle of an open sea.  
  
Scaly, grey skin.  
  
Bony, dry arms and long, hawk-like claws.  
  
A whisper inside his head: _Shall we play tag, Draco?_  
  
No.  
  
Thunder fed it generously.  
  
_Why not?  
_  
No.  
  
It laughed hoarsely at him. _There is no child who doesn't want to play._  
  
No.  
  
The floor began spinning.  
  
_You can't escape, Albino Boy._  
  
No.  
  
He could feel how his head became light.  
  
_Poor child..._  
  
No!  
  
He was about to fall.  
  
_Do you like my merry-go-round?_  
  
No!  
  
His pajama top got glued in his skin.  
  
_Are you ticklish?_  
  
NO!  
  
_Look behind you._  
  
"NOOO!"  
  
The boy collapsed on the floor, shaking. Greedily he gasped for breath, but instead only got cold and dead air with no oxygen in it. Curling up into a tiny ball he covered his eyes with his hands.  
  
The hallway was deserted, and only he laid there in the middle of it, in front of a big window and shaking uncontrollably.   
  
They bent down above him, around him.  
  
Is it possible to die in fear? Is it possible to choke in air? Is it possible to drown in own tears? Is it possible to explode as the horrible images flash behind your eyes as a never-ending nightmare?   
  
A young heart can so easily just give up and stop beating.  
  
_Let it go, son. Everything's going to be alright soon._  
  
Papa.  
  
_Come with us, Draco. Darling._  
  
Mama.  
  
_It's no use, my child._  
  
No.  
  
_Yes._  
  
The boy did not notice it himself, but his breath came out as a frosty cloud.  
  
That's my boy.  
  
His whole small body felt numb, mist crept behind his eyes and the pounding of the thunder died down inside his ears.  
  
The pressure that had squeezed his chest disappeared, the air didn't feel painful anymore in his lungs.   
  
Someone was humming a lullaby inside his head.  
  
A lightning split his body apart. The soul and the body waved farewell to one another, Reality and Dream World looked at each other solemnly.

…  
  
"Draco, what on earth are you doing in the middle of a corridor at this time of night??"  
  
But no. That thin thread inside the boy did not snap after all.  
  
The voices came back, the mist inside him faded away, but his mouth had dried speechless. Something came back inside him pass his lips and blew him conscious again.  
  
He was lifted from the floor by strong arms. The boy's limp, exhausted form leaned against father's chest, seeking for warmth.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
"Mmhmm?" The air that revived his thoughts gradually felt cold but good in his lungs. The boy couldn't open his eyelids. He just wasn't able to, but he wasn't scared anymore. They had retreated back to their hides. As his body gathered strength little by little, and soon he opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was that familiar face above him.  
  
"Why were you still up?"   
  
At that very moment the boy noticed that he was crying against his father's long coat, which had soaked wet in the rain. The boy had never seen a coat as black as this one; it was darker than coal and almost reached the floor. Father had lifted his hood down, and was holding an axe in his other hand. Under his fingernails there was something red.  
  
"I. The storm. The lights." His voice grew faint. He cuddled up closer to his father's evenly heaving chest.  
  
"Go to sleep, Draco." That was his father's cold answer. His voice was annoyed, fed up.  
  
Uncaring.  
  
"But they'll came back! They frighten me -"  
  
A contemptuous snort.  
  
"I don't have time for this sort of thing", he stated and placed the boy down. But the blonde boy was barely able to stand on his own feet, and as he looked at his father, that tall, strong figure, his eyes asked so many questions that could not have been described by words.  
  
Can't you see me? Why won't you really look at me and see how I need you?  
  
"My bed is so far away. There are horrible creatures lurking in the halls." The boy's voice was quiet, at the same time he tried to reach and to avoid his father's gaze.  
  
"Nonsense. You're only imagining things, foolish child."  
  
"Can I have a glass of water?" Eyes sparking.   
  
"Go to your room."  
  
"But -"  
  
"GOOD NIGHT, Draco." His emphasized words gave no other option.  
  
And he walked away. The boy watched as his father's black figure whirled around the corner and the echoing sound of his shoes' heels died away.  
  
He was all alone again.  
  
Papa had left him alone in the dark.  
  
And they'll come back to get him once again. He wanted to be alone, but not alone with them.  
  
Now that Papa was gone, they could find him again. When Papa or Mama was there with him, they were blind and couldn't see him. Then there was someone stronger to protect him from the creatures' evil words.  
  
He couldn't hear Papa's steps anymore. The boy was standing in the middle of the corridor, clenching his fists at his sides.   
  
The thunderstorm was over, but it was still raining outside. The merciless bullet-like rain pounded against the windows and trickled down them to the windowsill.   
  
But he was never alone.  
  
During rain completely new kinds of creatures crept from the darkness.

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_A/N: Reviews, please!_  
  
**-Devilita.**


	2. Time for art

_A/N:_ No, not a chapter. Just "art".

I drew this picture a _lifetime_ ago. I put this fic (slightly edited, for example I had to change the names from Draco to Michael) into both my English and Finnish portfolios, and my teachers liked it! Whoo. I like this fic, too. It was my best one until '_Acrobat'_ came along.

I was inspired to draw this pic in the middle of the night by own fic, but unfortunately I had a limited amount of colours to use. Also the album where the picture lays had to make the pic smaller than it was in reality, so the result isn't too accurate :(

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Just take the spaces away.

h t t p : I m g . p h o t o b u c k e t . c o m / a l b u m s / v 4 1 0 / R a i n b o w e r / 9 8 c b 8 7 9 d . j p g

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Thank you, you five lovely reviewers: **GaBoO**, **Ryo Akuinenn**, **Quirky Persnickety**, **The Blood Ringed Moon** and **Aphrodite Pheonix**.

_-Devilita._


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